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Last Tuesday I flew to meet my husband, Emile, in Boston where he was to attend a conference for the National Cooperative Grocers Association (NCGA). Wednesday, while he spent the day attending the conference, I took a walking tour of Boston. Once I left the Hyatt in Cambridge, I walked over the Harvard Bridge towards Boston. It was then that I saw Fenway Park and wanted to get a closer look. The stadium was closed (no game) but I was able to get an inside view of it via a little tavern called “Bleacher Bar“. Wow. I think every ball park could do with a place like this!

Fenway Park

After that, I decided I needed to see the Old North Church. You remember that this was the church where the signal was given to warn the patriots that the British were approaching (One if by land, two if by sea). As I tend to be geographically challenged, I approached a couple and asked, “Am I heading in the direction of the Old North Church?” to which one of them replied, “I’m not familiar with that church.” What did he just say? Anyway, I found that I was indeed heading north, and kept on walking.

Tombstone of Paul Revere

After a nice long walk (and asking directions of a few more people) I found my way to the Old Granary cemetery where Paul Revere, Sam Adams, and the victims of the Boston Massacre are buried. On Paul Revere’s headstone, people have left small stones and coins (maybe because he was a silversmith?) and it is said that out of respect for him, even those who could use the change do not disturb it. I don’t know if that is true or not, but I can tell you that I felt that I was in a very sacred place – and I can’t say that I feel that way often. And then, less than a mile away, I finally made it to the Old North Church. Imagine, all that history concentrated in such a small area!

Later, on my way back through town I came upon the Museum of African-American History, but even though it was only 3:30 it was closed! (the magazine article I’d read about this place listed the hours as 10-4). I’d been especially looking forward to seeing the exhibit entitled “The Color of Baseball in Boston” which tells the little-known stories of players of color and the teams that they played on. I’m sorry I missed this exhibit and hope I’ll have a chance to see it on my next trip to Boston.

After my long walk back to our hotel, I met up with Emile and his fellow food coop managers and we took a tour of Boston on Segways with a company called (remarkably) Boston by Segway. It was a little bit scary (for me) at first, but within a few minutes, we were all zipping around town. It was AWESOME! Without a doubt, this is a really great way to tour the city.

The next few days are a bit of a blur! Thursday we drove to the western tip of Massachusetts….

had an amazing lunch…

And spent a night with our friends Susan and John.

Emile and Susan

Friday we headed back east towards New York where we had lunch with our niece, Grace, in the town of New Paltz and then went on to a homecoming dinner at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park. Whew!

Saturday morning, we drove back to Boston to board separate planes. Emile is now back at home in Ashland, and I am visiting my sister, Janice, on Staten Island. My days have been much less hectic here, but we do fit in a 4.5 mile walk along the boardwalk each day. I’ve seen a few friends… but mostly, am happy just to spend time with Janice.

With my friend Laura!

With my sister Janice on the Boardwalk

But what would all these words be about, if I didn’t throw a pie in the mix? Who could resist making apple pies with the abundance of apples in every store and farm stand? Not me… and so, I baked two. One for my brother-in-law to take to work to share with his buddies… and one for an old friend who is dealing with some health issues right now.

I’m tremendously grateful for the chance to take such a fun-filled trip… and truly grateful for the dear friends and family that we have. This short vacation has reminded me of just how very blessed we are.

MacIntosh Apple Pie

Reflect upon your present blessings of which every man has many – not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.